


exactly where you'd like me

by buttons



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Frottage, High School, M/M, Smoking, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:15:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttons/pseuds/buttons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Louis and Liam live together and are best friends. Liam's still learning and Louis is happy to teach</p>
            </blockquote>





	exactly where you'd like me

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at the start of november last year for my friend and it's on my LJ and also my tumblr but im now posting it here! kudos & comments are appreciated but mostly i just love you for reading my stuff. enjoyyyy! x

**_we, of then, are no longer the same._ **

It's dusk, but the with the heat, it may as well be high noon. Two friends – and uh.. well, Liam lives with Louis, too.. – sit on the edge of their driveway, blocked from the front window's view by squat bush.

One of them is smoking a cigarette.

"Louis?" The younger one asks, "Is Year 12 scary?"

"What are you, a pussy?"

"No! Screw you!"

Louis snorts, and gives the boy an appraising look, "Nah. You're right. You’re my friend, so you can’t be."

The younger (Liam. His name is Liam.) swells with pride. He says, "Teach me to smoke?"

Louis laughs, "Why would you want to learn that? It'll kill you, you know."

Liam says, "I don't care." He says, " _You_  do it."

With a shrug, Louis takes a drag and hands the cigarette to Liam. He presses it against his lips, (it is damp from Louis's mouth) and inhales—most definitely a mistake. As the smoke catches and drags in his throat, he coughs until his eyes water.

Louis just smirks, tips back his chin to let out a lazy stream of smoke from between his parted lips, and says, "The first time is always the worst."

Liam thinks,  _he is so cool._

 

**_I pass by peaceably, with eyes, with shoes, with fury and forgetting._ **

 

Liam storms into his room already having worked himself into a rage. Stupid Danielle. Stupid big mouth girl. He doesn't even like her. He doesn't even—why the  _hell_  had he said that? Why the hell had he stammered and leaned away and said, "Oh, uh, I don't know how."

God.

And her face. Oh, her face after that had been priceless. Fantastic, really. Liam thinks he's never seen a face that so perfectly conveyed 'Are you flipping kidding me?' better than stupid (stupidstupid _stu_ - _pid_.) Danielle. Danielle and her hair and eyes and graceful limbs and- _ugh_.

Liam knows, suddenly, that he's going to have to punch something.

Instead (because there's no one around) he throws random books one-by-one to the floor with enough force to rattle the walls of his attic bedroom. Loud enough, apparently, to send Louis stomping up the stairs with an annoyed expression on his face. "D’you want to stop that anytime soon, asshole?"

Scoffing, Liam hurls another book towards Louis' head. "The fuck?" Louis snarls, ducking before the book can hit him in the face.

"Get out of my room," Liam says, wishing he hadn't just thrown the last heavy item within reach. "Now. Get the fuck out."

Louis leers. And goddamn it, Liam hates when he does that. "My my, where did you get such a filthy mouth?"

Liam scowls, "From myself. Now get out."

But instead (of course) Louis just comes in and plops on Liam's beanbag, making himself at home. "Not that I particularly care, but what's the problem?"

"I don't have—"

"Quit pouting and tell me why you're chucking  _The Perks Of Being A Wallflower-_ ” He laughs at that “-at my ceiling."

"It's not your ceiling, it's my floor," Liam argues. But he can already tell he's going to give in. He's going to tell Louis everything. Every embarrassing moment of the night. And Louis—because he's a dick—is going to laugh his ass off, and Liam is going to have to find another book (or maybe a shoe) to chuck at his face.

He sighs, sitting on the edge of his bed, and mumbles, "I don't understand girls."

Louis surprisingly doesn't even crack a smile, but says, "What about them?"

"Well, I—" Liam doesn't know what to say, really, because in his mind, Louis would have a boot in his teeth at this point, and Liam wouldn't have to continue right away. "One of them—Danielle—said she wanted to kiss me."

"And you're complaining?" Louis asks, quirking an eyebrow in amusement.

"No, that's not," and here is comes, here's the miserable truth to the whole thing, "I just. I said no because I. Well, because I don't know how."

Liam braces himself for an outburst of laughter. Instead there's just a shuffling noise as Louis resituates himself on the beanbag. Finally he says, "You told her you don't know how?"

Liam just nods, remembering with a shot of humiliation to his veins the way her face had twisted into snorting giggles before she'd run off to tell (presumably) everyone in his grade. Louis sighs, "You never tell a girl that."

"I figured that out, dick face."

"Oh calm down, just—I mean, you had the right idea. You liked her, I'm guessing?" another grudging nod from Liam. "You never wanna go in for your first kiss with someone you actually like. The first time is always the worst."

"So what was I supposed to do?" Liam whines (but he has to admit he's perked up a little from Louis' sort-of praise.)

"Doesn't matter now, does it?"

"Yes it does!" Liam thinks about all the girls he'll meet and how their faces will contort into that look—that Danielle look—before they dash away from him for good.

"No, because next time you'll know how to kiss." Louis says matter-of-factly. And then, "Scoot over."

Liam's mouth drops open. "What? Why?"

"Listen," Louis says, sliding Liam over and sitting beside him. Liam's heart starts hammering madly in his chest. "As your best – and only – friend, I figure there are a few things I'm supposed to teach you. Might as well include this one."

"I, what?" Liam squeaks (just when he thinks his voice has evened out, something like this goes and happens and it's like he's starting puberty all over again).

"Don't be a pansy. Now, come here."

Liam pulls a face. "But you're my—we're—" this has to be some kind of game. Louis will wait for Liam to lean in, and then he'll burst into laughter, call him a fucking perv, and leave. Liam knows it.

But when Louis's breath flutters over Liam's lips, Liam gulps. This seems like an awfully long way to go for a practical joke. Louis says smoothly, "Boys? Friends?" with an edge that hits Liam right in his throat. His stomach turns, but not in a way that's completely unpleasant.

He's still not convinced this isn't a complete joke when a hot mouth presses into his. A burst of adrenaline courses through him. He has some dim idea that he should mash in harder, and move his head around a bit, but he can't right now because his breath is caught in his throat and he seems to have forgotten how to move.

Louis' lips slide over Liam's, damp and warm. He whispers, "Loosen up. Open for me," lips never losing contact with Liam's mouth.

Liam listens, letting his jaw fall slack, and then shutting it again in embarrassment over having obeyed so quickly (so enthusiastically). Somehow, in that act, he manages to catch Louis' lower lip between his own. Because it feels good, he sucks it into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth. Louis makes a "Hmm," sound. Something between approval and curiosity.

It makes Liam pull back, "Was that...okay?"

Louis shrugs, stands up and heads for the stairs. Liam is so mortified, he wants to throw up, but then Louis turns around and says, "Next time a chick asks you—kiss her."

As his head disappears down the stairs, Liam sits absolutely still, not daring to breathe.

When he finally does let out a breath, it is sharp and fast. He thinks,  _Oh_.

**_and it follows that I am, because you are._ **

Liam remembers being extremely surprised when Louis finally caved into his parents' wish for him to go to a Christian college. For one, his family wasn't all that religious (unless you count his mum's random urges to coat herself in holy water at the Catholic Church down the street—Louis called it her Devil Diet Syndrome). But both of his parents had become convinced sometime during Louis's senior year of high school (Liam thinks it was between the fourth and fifth traffic violation) that he needed to be “Shaped Up”, and that St. Thomas Christian College was the only place sturdy enough to do the job.

This leaves Liam living awkwardly in Louis’ attic, alone with Louis’ parents, but he’s lived with them for 4 years now so he guesses it isn’t  _that_ awkward.

Louis lasts a semester and two months (which was way more than Liam had originally expected, to be fair) before he's expelled for growing weed in his dorm room. Liam thinks it's fantastic, because if his best friend turns out to be a pot dealer, well, that'll give Liam a ton of street cred, won't it? Maybe not.

Louis moves back into the room below Liam's in March, and the next two months are a parade of 'Oh, Louis, I can't believe you'd—' and 'I didn't raise you to be this way.'

Liam decides he's had enough of it. Because growing pot is definitely not the worst thing a person can do, and Louis is  _Louis_ , so he can pretty much do whatever he wants as far as Liam's concerned.

So he marches down his stairs and pokes his head in Louis's room. He says, "I wanted to tell you I love you."

Louis sets down his book ( _‘Meltdown’ by Elton John.. Uh_ ), looks up and says, "Yeah, I know."

Liam's heart is hammering in his throat, because that's all find and good that he knows, but he needs Louis to  _know_. That it's not about the pot, but because Liam doesn't just love him like a friend, not really. That he loves him not just because of that kiss, but partly for it. That he doesn't usually think about asking for more, but that sometimes he does.

And Louis is looking at him, head tilted to one side, and he says, "D'you wanna know the real reason I got kicked out of St. Thomas?"

Liam edges in, pressing his palms against the wall and leaning back against his arms. "It wasn't because of the pot thing?"

Louis chuckles, and sets his book down. "Well, they found that, too. But that was technically after I got kicked out."

Liam grins because Louis is grinning, and it makes him feel like laughing until his stomach hurts. "So what'd you do?"

"I fucked a girl in the chapel."

Liam does laugh then, a deep belly laugh, and says, "So, did she get expelled, too?"

Louis looks thoughtful for a moment, breaks into a grin and says, "I don't know."

"How do you not know? Don't you guys talk?"

"Why would we talk?"

"Well you—"

"Fucked? Ever heard of a one-off?"

Liam flushes, embarrassed. "Yeah. 'Course I have. I just. Never mind."

Louis squints, "Wait. You  _have_  done it, right?"

"Yeah," Liam says, shuffling his feet, "Yeah, once. But it wasn't very good. I—well it was over pretty quick and she didn't. Well, we just. It wasn't. Um."

Louis stands up, for a reason Liam can't see but won't question, and says, "The first time is always the worst."

Liam closes his eyes then, because  _Jesus Christ_. There are things he wants down to the roots of his teeth, and with Louis looking at him like that, saying those words—the ones that have always meant trouble and  _god .please. more._ (the last only in the privacy of his unchecked imagination)—he's not sure if he can separate out fantasy (filthy, perverted, and dangerous) from reality. Already, his mind is racing a mile a minute—no, faster than that, messier—to figure out how to get out of the room. How to get Louis closer. How to stop. How to get those hands on him.

"I think the problem is," he says, wetting his lips with his tongue, "I don't know what comes first. I mean, I don't know—"

"You have to seduce her." Louis says, and Liam opens his eyes to see that Louis isn't across the room anymore, but close enough to reach out to. If he wanted. And he's still not sure if he does. Want.

"To be honest, I don't really have the patience for that." Liam says, all bravado. Widening his stance to prove it. (Prove what? That Louis can press hotly into the cradle of his hips if he takes two steps forward?)

Louis clucks his tongue in disapproval. "Patience, young one, is the name of the game. Haven't you ever held off?" (he's closer now. One more step and their chests would hit with each inhale.) "Ever teased yourself by going so slow you had to clench your teeth to keep from the brink?"

Liam squeezes his eyes shut. Louis is crowding him against the wall, and somehow not touching an inch of him (oh  _god_ ). Liam gasps, "Once or twice," cursing his vocal chords for giving out on him at such an inopportune time.

Louis says, "Mm. And what did it feel like? After waiting as long as you could possibly stand? How did it feel to come then?"

"Uhhh," Liam moans, headache building between his eyes from the tightness of keeping them closed.

"Yeah," Louis says, breath ghosting over Liam's left cheekbone, stirring his eyelashes. "That's what I thought."

Another breath and Louis steps away. Liam blinks, relieved and distraught all at once, heart slamming against his sternum like he's just sprinted for hours. He knows that if he's going to walk away, this is his only chance. Any touch from Louis and he'll be under. Gone. And is that what he wants?

No. More than anything, Liam wants to get out of this room. He wants Casey and her creamy thighs, her soft voice, the way she asked if he was okay, after. How she said she was glad to be his first, even though he knew it was crap for the both of them. He wants. He wants. He says, "What's all that got to do with seduction?"

And  _there_. The moment of escape has passed. Because Louis is back in his space and the room is a thousand and five degrees but he's shivering like a virgin and oh, he wants. He wants so badly he can't help the way his fingers clutch at Louis's side (but just his t-shirt. His skin is too hot. His skin is too  _boy._ )

A puff of air from Louis's laughter tickles Liam's lips and Louis says, "Everything. It's got— _everything_."

Liam makes a 'hunh' noise, that sounds like he was just punched in the gut, and really what he's feeling now (arousal splashing low in his stomach) isn't so far removed from a swift kick in the abdomen.

"Here," Louis says, "I'll teach you. After all, I am your best friend." And Liam wishes he wouldn't have said that last part. Wishes it didn't make him feel feverish all over. That it didn't make him  _want_  all the more.

Louis presses his palms on either side of Liam's shoulders, and Liam's arms are still trapped behind his own body. He's so hot he thinks he may just go ahead and pass out. His forehead is clammy and he can't help but wriggle a bit in the cage of Louis's arms. He says, "What—"

"Shhh," Louis murmurs, nosing along Liam's jaw. "Don't pretend you don't want—"

"Shut  _up_ ," Liam hisses defiantly.

Louis chuckles, "I was going to say—to learn."

"You—" asshole. Pervert. Sexy fucking thing.

"Shhh, Liam," Louis's lips are pressed against Liam's ear and Liam's whole body quakes at the sound of his name in that tone. "That's tip number one, by the way," Louis says, "Learn her name and use it."

"Yeah," Liam sighs, annoyed when it sounds more like a come-on than he meant for it to.

"Tip two," Louis says, "use teeth."

Liam feels a shudder working up from his toes even before Louis's teeth clamp down lightly over his t-shirt covered collarbone. "Oh my god," he moans, before he can help it. And then, " _Oh my god_."

He tries to push Louis away, desperately scrambles backward even though he knows there's nowhere to go. Louis's teeth are scraping down his neck and Liam trembles again (although this time, it's more in fear that anything). "Please. Louis. Stop, please. I—"

But it's too late. Because Louis's thigh is pressed against the very thing Liam was trying to hide—the fact that he is horribly, painfully hard. "Don't," he pleads.

Louis's cheek presses against his, "Liam," (Liam grits his teeth against the lust that washes down from the crown on his head like ice water) "It's okay. Me, too."

"Wha—"  _Oh_.

Louis ruts gently against Liam's hip, "It's supposed to happen."

"I  _know_ ," Liam says stubbornly. He may be unpracticed but he's not stupid. It's just. This is Louis. And he's a little blurry on whether this is a lesson or the real thing anymore. He supposes, with Louis, it's probably all part of the game.

Either way, Louis stills his hips, but leaves himself against Liam, pressure almost unbearable. Liam barely catches his whimper behind his teeth. He says, quietly, "Louis?"

"Patience," Louis whispers. And finally,  _finally_ , his hands land on Liam's upper arms, pinkies searing bare skin.

Liam's breath stutters Louis mouths along his cheek, moving inwards from his ear, to the corner of his mouth. Liam swallows, and can't help but let his neck arch as he turns to press his lips fully against Louis's. For a moment, Louis doesn't respond, but just lets Liam's lips slide desperately against his, but then his tongue flickers against Liam's bottom lip, and Liam opens to let him in.

This, at least, he's done before. This, at least, he can handle.

He works his fingers into the hair at the nape of Louis's neck, licking and nipping at Louis's mouth. Louis kisses back—if not fiercely, at least with interest, and that's enough for now.

Enough, except that it's not. Because Liam's hips are twitching in an effort to keep still, and it's only because his mouth is busy that he doesn't whimper, "More."

But then, Louis starts a slow and gentle rhythm, rolling his pelvis forward, muscle of his thigh grinding against Liam's groin. Liam lets his eyes flutter shut with a shaky burst of breath. He says, " _Oh_  Louis," because he can't help it.

Louis catches Liam's chin in his hand and kisses him. Hot. Hard. Unrelenting. (finally.) He says, "Say it again."

"Louis, please," Liam begs, arching his back to press their bodies together tighter.

Louis lets out a burst of air, and looks at Liam with half-lidded eyes. " _Jesus_ ," he says, raking his eyes over Liam's body (desperate, shaking.)

But none of that matters to Liam right now. He just needs. Needs. And he'll do anything to find release. To have Louis's hips piston into his until he comes. Right in his jeans. And he knows Louis will get off, too, if not from sensation then from the pure power of having Liam like this. So he says, "Teach me, Louis.  _God_. Please."

Louis growls, and hauls Liam up so he's on his tiptoes, groin sliding along Louis's thigh. He grabs Liam's hips, thumbs pressing bruises into the peaks of his hipbones, and rocks him forward and back along his leg until Liam's vision tunnels and his face is so hot, he thinks he might cry. He says, "Like this."

Liam makes a choked sound and lets Louis continue rocking him, feeling the wall shake each time Louis's knee hits it.

He feels the heat building, washing over him from tip to tip, toes curling in his sneakers. He says, "Louis. Louis I'm—"

And he comes.

Shuddering and hot in his jeans. Against the wall. Louis still clutching him as it fades.

He thinks,  _That was—_. He thinks,  _Yes._

**_I am neither good nor bad, but a man._ **

The last time Louis touches Liam is on Liam's 18th birthday, after he's taught Liam the fine art of being sloshed.

It's nothing as filthy as Liam always imagined the _‘Last Time’_  would be. No. Just an arm slung over Liam's shoulder, and lips smearing down his neck. Louis says, " _God_. Liam." And even as Liam tries to fight it, tries to will his body not to yearn forwards, up and against Louis's hard (broad and gorgeous) chest, he's never been able to deny himself. "You're all grown up and I've got nothing left to teach you."

Liam (who should have guessed. Should have taken the moment for all it was worth while he still could) says, "Pity, isn't it? That I'm such a fast learner."

Louis cuffs him on the head, cups the back of his neck and kisses him for all he's worth.

And Liam doesn't think anything at all.

After:  _In the distance someone is singing. In the distance._

There will be moments later, (much later, after he's stopped looking for excuses to catch Louis alone. When he's done trying to coax him with every mention of the things he's done. The things he can  _do_. That they could—) when Liam will be perched on the edge of something new, and he will think  _the first time is always the worst._  He will think, with a savage grin,  _let's go._

He will think,  _Louis._  

**Author's Note:**

> they were originally going to be brothers but then Drake said that was weird so i changed it as much as i could without having to put too much effort into it.


End file.
